


Syncopated Affections

by orphan_account



Series: before. [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Codependency, Complicated Relationships, M/M, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Reaper76 - Freeform, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:18:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8063320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The thing about Jack is that Jack takes. He takes and he takes and he takes until there is nothing left for him to consume. It’s not through any deliberate attempt on his part. Jack is not that type of person.
    People around him just tend to give him stuff. Reyes, most of all. In which Jack is in love, but he remains almost blissfully oblivious to the people around him who love him and are in love with him.





	

Sometimes, when Jack looks at the stars, he thinks that’s there’s someone else that looks up with him.

He’s a child with sleeves that sit a little crooked on his arms. They’re hand-made and a labour of his father’s love. He’s not an orphan, but sometimes when he remembers the apple tree by the house and his father is deep in the fields, Jack gets hung up on that word.

It sticks to his tongue like one of those hard candies he likes to suck on and slowly dissolve away. At least until he gets impatient and crushes it with his teeth.

Which he always does.

Later, his father will ask where he learned that word. _Orphan_. 

Jack read it from the old dictionary that’s tucked away in the nightstand by his father’s bed. It’s buried with all the other memories ( bracelets, a half-empty perfume bottle and a notebook that’s aged and weathered and filled entirely with a language he doesn’t understand ) in the bottom drawer that his father never talks about. He is too ashamed to admit to being in his father’s room without permission so he says nothing. 

His father is a very perceptive man ( and a lot more organized than any of the city folk playing with green paper and shiny cards ) but Jack is still too young. All Jack sees is his father smiling and ruffling his hair. He tells him _Good job_ for being smart. Tells him that it’s always better to be smart than strong. Strength will get people to _use_ him, but intelligence is what allows _him_ to use people.

When it becomes clear that his father isn’t mad, his panic clears and he feels almost proud that he manages to get away with sneaking around.

So he keeps doing it.

In time, Jack learns to smile like his father. He copies his father’s mannerisms down to the letter until people pepper him with phrases such as, _Oh Jackie, you’re your father’s son alright._

He remembers to smile and tilt his head, heart fluttering at the praise. 

 

* * *

 

 

He’s older now and his sleeves are perfectly even. The cuffs are razor sharp, but he presses on the folds to make them _sharper_.

 _Your eyes are too blue_ , his father does not say when he hugs him. _I know_ , Jack does not admit when he hugs his father.

( He is lucky, Jack thinks, that he has a father who loves him. Who _continues_ to love him despite the way that every day, on Jack’s birthday, his father wears all black, grey eyes in deep contrast with the wood of the apple tree )

Before Jack leaves, his father puts the journal in his hands. Jack’s eyes water and he pushes the journal back into his father’s chest. He does this for the same reason he doesn’t take the dictionary with him. There is a lot of history in both of those books. Probably a lot more than Jack is ever going to be aware of.

Jack learned French just to _read_ the journal. He remembers waiting until his father was napping on the porch to sneak into the room. He didn’t realize it when he learned the meaning of the word  _Orphan_ , but within the margins of the dictionary are little notes written in cursive French.

Jack’s learned a lot, but his father is keener than most. Sadder than most too and Jack wants to bury away that sadness.

( And then he remembers that his father already has. )

 _Come back home_ , is all his father asks of him when Jack refuses the journal. It’s the one thing Jack cannot promise so he says nothing and leaves.

 

* * *

 

They meet and Reyes is a bit of a legend around the base. Jack is one too, but instead of being passed along almost feverously like Reyes’, Jack’s name is murmured quietly into cupped hands and tilted ears.

They say people will either love or hate Reyes and that there is no in-between. That Reyes is one of those guys that people love to hate and hate to love. 

( _You’ll like Jack_ , people say. _Jack is nice_. )

When Jack first sees Reyes, he’s not sure what to think.

Reyes has more medals than befitting a man who looks so _young_. Various titles and prestige line his uniform as it stands out amongst the crowd of eager soldiers. There’s not much Jack can gleam from his spot a couple seats down the row, but he tries.

The presentation ( “You’ll become faster. Stronger. Better than before.” ) is drowned out by intensity of Reyes’ eyes. Dark umber, almost black; Jack can paint entire night skies with the colour and he hopes he gets the chance. His eyes follow down into Reyes’ beard and mustache which are neatly trimmed, face bare of any outward marks. 

He glances up at Reyes’ eyes again and Reyes is staring right at him.

( _Electric_ , he muses later at night. He identifies it as a jolt of fear with a tiny spark of shame at getting caught. )

 

* * *

 

The first time Jack asks the question, they have known each other for half a year.

He learns a lot about Reyes in these short months. He learns that Reyes is almost _abnormally_ neat and he likes to keep the room in a very specific state of order. It doesn’t become a problem since Jack has always been a neat person himself so doesn’t affect him that much. Still, there are moments, especially when Reyes is feeling particularly agitated, that makes Jack pause and re-evaluate whether or not they have a problem.

One memorable time, Jack honestly thinks he is going to _die_  when Reyes walks in and Jack hasn’t made his bed yet. That deep simmer of red that crackles across Reyes’ eyes stay with him for a _very_  long time. It’s the first time Jack begins to understand why people genuinely _fear_  Reyes.

Later, Reyes makes him a strange drink that smells vaguely of cinnamon and Jack doesn’t know what it is, but it's  _cold_.  Just by holding it, it seems to get even colder. Reyes doesn’t actually ever say _sorry_ , but as Jack sips the drink, he finds that he doesn’t have to.

People are allowed to be _different_ and if Reyes works like the way he does, then Jack will just have to learn to work with him.

So he does. 

He makes sure he cleans up after himself and keeps things in a state of acceptable order. Jack is even careful to note that the cleanliness doesn’t apply to Reyes’ desk which remains a disaster zone of papers, books, and what he suspects to be are photos, but Reyes keeps those covered and hidden so Jack can only speculate. 

Even when he’s tired and drained of sleep, Jack puts in the effort and that’s all it takes for Reyes’ eyes to soften.

Reyes is usually very careful to separate his personal life from work. Trying to draw information from him is like asking a rock what it sees when people step on it day in and day out.

In what may be repayment, Reyes beings to open up enough that he starts to accept questions about himself.

Jack takes his chance.

He starts small, of course. Asks him what his favourite colour is ( Red ) and what he wants to be called ( Reyes. _Just_ Reyes ).

Then he escalates.

“How do you think we’ll die?” Jack asks Reyes when it’s late at night and Reyes is on the very verge of falling asleep. They’re laying in their beds, but Reyes is turned away on his side.  He wonders if it’s weird that he knows the exact stutter in Reyes' breathing before the man tips over into oblivion. He doesn’t think on it and fiddles with his sleeves until they sit evenly above his elbows.

Reyes murmurs something vague in his direction. Jack hears a breathy snort and then the rustle of blankets before silence settles on them like a fine dust.

Jack waits.

Silence hangs, suspended, for a few more minutes. Reyes' breathing has gone eerily silent and the moment stretches on for such a long time that Jack begins to feel a bubble form inside his throat. He sits up, peeling back his sheets and is just about ready to step down when he hears a soft sigh.

Jack freezes.

Then:

“Together,” Reyes says quietly and Jack wishes he can see Reyes’ face. Reyes has one of those voices that can mean anything. Jack is good at reading people, but not Reyes. Reyes is always several steps ahead of him and whatever Jack knows, Reyes knows as well and _more_.

Even now, Reyes knows exactly what Jack is asking and not even Jack knows that himself.

“Together?” Jack asks and he’s pressing his wrists flush together because there’s no solid surface on the bed. The beat of his pulse pumps twofold across his skin where they meet.

( There’s the small nightstand between their beds, but Jack doesn’t want to reach over just to lay his wrist flat on the top. That would be weird. )

“Together,” Reyes repeats with a wave of the air and it is not helpful at all. Jack lays back down and closes his eyes, trying to commit the way Reyes says _Together_ to memory. Then he quickly hums when he realizes that Reyes is waiting for a response.

He can almost hear the smile in Reyes’ voice when he continues. It’s a rare mercy that Jack can identify how  _wistfulness_  and soft acceptance colours the tone.

“I’ll die before you, though.”

It takes a full minute for Jack to swallow that mouthful of sand, but he does it and they say their goodnights.

He wonders about the pact he just made.

He very quickly decides that he doesn’t want to wonder about it anymore and that there is nothing _wonderful_ about it at all.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes Reyes’ gaze lingers on him which makes Jack’s heart flutter with something unnamed.

He thinks of the time he chased after a girl with a flowing skirt and eyes so green, he thought he saw nature in pure watercolour dwelling within them. He also thinks of the time a boy with a freckled constellation on his face asked him out and Jack had said _Yes_ with lungs utterly deprived of air.

Then he thinks that _this_ is not like those previous times at all and that Reyes, for all the passion that eats up his heart, doesn’t ever partake in the childish discussions about previous  _conquests_.

A squadmate of Jack’s smiles up at Reyes with a cocksure swagger and they ask Reyes plainly if he likes boys or girls. Reyes looks over from where he’s been reading ( Shakespeare again, except it’s _The Tempest_ this week ) and just shrugs.

“Nah,” is all he says and Jack’s friend takes him out for drinks.

There’s too much on his mind to refuse the offer, so he doesn’t. Later, his friend rubs soothing circles into his back and comments on how it must be rough to have heard that. Jack very carefully does not tell them that he’s imagining that it’s Reyes beside him.

Though, judging by the sad look his friend gives him, Jack thinks he doesn’t need to.

 

* * *

 

They’ve set up for the night in an abandoned house wedged between two of its carbon copies. It’s a quaint home, plates still laid out on the dinner table for a last supper that wasn’t able to be enjoyed. The powder blue wallpaper isn’t his style, but it’s familiar and not splattered with blood so there’s _that_ at least.

They’ve been on their feet all day and the rest is welcome.

Reyes has Reinhardt ( Torbjörn too, technically ) posted in the living room because out of all of them, Reinhardt is the only one who wakes up to noise. Reyes wakes up when he feel someone hovering over him as he sleeps. For Torbjörn, it’s the sound of door opening. Ana wakes up when she feels the air moving differently and she explains it with a few hand motions and a pinched face that says she doesn’t understand it either. 

Jack wakes up when Reyes wakes up.

( Whenever Reyes drags himself out of bed, Jack startles awake at the sudden loss of heat. He blinks blearily for a while, disoriented and unstable from the sudden upheaval of sleep. He pads around the bed with a hand like a lost kitten and he hears a soft chuckle above him. Reyes pats the shoulder Jack isn’t sleeping on and tells him it’s 0300 and that he should go back to sleep.

His voice is so deep and smooth that Jack obeys and fails to remember ever waking up in the morning. )

So they leave Torbjörn to get the Reinhardt out of his armour while the rest of them find lodging in the rooms upstairs.

Ana claims a room with the windows facing out towards the street and Reyes sets up in the room with none. Jack has the remaining room at his disposal.

Instead, he knocks on Reyes’ door and Reyes, like clockwork, lets him in.

It’s still light outside with various oranges and yellows painting strips across the floor and walls. In contrast, Reyes’ room is completely dark and Jack is glad for it. It’s easier when he can’t see the contours of Reyes’ face.

Jack sets his bag of equipment near the door and places his pulse rifle against the wall. The clattering metal sound that has been following him all day suddenly stops. Jack blinks and flexes his hands. He is still jittering from an entire day of moving slowly into the shell of a city, eyes peeled around every corner as they begin to close in on the omnium.

Reyes makes audible footfalls behind him and touches the small of his back. It’s familiar and Jack feels a knot loosen in his stomach. Then, Reyes' hand _stays_. It’s like a brand that burns ever so slowly through the fabric of his shirt and absolutely sears into his skin.

There’s a conversation waiting on Reyes' tongue, but Jack’s breath must hitch because then Reyes' intensity lessens and he drops his hand.

Jack tries not to show his disappointment.

The next thing he knows, he’s being dragged back downstairs and Torbjörn has Reinhardt half out of his armour. He gives them a glance which hones in on Reyes who has his usual filter of unreadable anger scrawled across his scarred features.

Reinhardt is resting easy on the couch, meeting Jack’s gaze with a note of camaraderie Jack has noticed before, but never gave much thought on. Torbjörn gives him a curious look before barking at Reinhardt for moving.

“Ah, friends, you’ve returned.”

“Eat your damn rations, I ain’t cooking tonight,” says Reyes immediately and Reinhardt laughs.

They stop in front of the piano that’s pushed neatly against the wall. Reyes takes the top off the piano bench and digs a few sheets out before placing them on the stand and forcing Jack to sit down on the bench with him.

Jack has never played the piano in his life.

Neither has Reyes.

Still, he watches as Reyes’ eyes narrow and he pulls out a pair of glasses he swears he doesn’t need.

( Enhanced vision isn’t one of the things that Reyes managed to acquire from the program. People reacted differently to the procedures and while some enhancements succeeded, others had varying results. In fact, Jack is the only one who was successful across the board. )

Ana’s footsteps going down the stairs has Jack pausing before Reyes pulls him back into focus.

“It’s just math,” Reyes says as he pulls out a daunting sheet speckled with a bunch of dots and lines that mean nothing to Jack. 

Jack blinks and tries to make sense of the 4/4 at the very beginning and the very long arch across pretty much the entire piece.

 _Chopin_ , says a line of text on the right. _Prelude in E Minor, Op. 28 No. 4_.

Reyes pulls Jack’s right hand and places it over the keys. He holds up his own right hand further down the piano and presses down on a white key with his index finger.

The note resounds and Jack feels it bouncing off the walls of his skin. Bolstered by the sweet flutter of his heartbeat, Jack presses down on the key.

It’s a little higher and much too timid, but Jack’s heartstrings twist as Reyes flashes a soft grin.

They go through a few scales, both clumsily as Reyes has never learned the finesse of ivory. A piano is not a guitar, but it’s close enough and Reyes is stern, but patient.

Eventually, in the most botched rendition of _Chopin_ ( with Reinhardt singing in the background and Ana providing a nice humming backtrack ) ever, Jack’s fingers stop shaking and Ana stops looking worried.

Reyes and Ana exchange glances and Jack can’t see Reyes’ expression, but Ana’s eyebrow arches and her lips curl.

He catches them, later at night. Jack is inside the room, bundled up in blankets and just about ready to fall asleep. Ana and Reyes are outside the door and talking in low tones that the slumbering Reinhardt can’t hear, but Jack can.

“What about Jack?” Ana.

“What about him?“ Reyes. 

Silence.

“Do you know?“

A long pause.

"Yeah.”

“What will you do?”

“I’m figuring it out.”

Jack hears a step forwards and then: “Does _he_ know?”

No response.

So Jack imagines that expression Reyes gets when he has a lot to say, but none of the words to say it with. Ana makes a breathy noise in the back of her throat and she leaves, he assumes. Jack can’t hear her footfalls when she decides to be _silent_ no matter how hard he strains to hear them.

Reyes enters the room a moment later and settles down on the floor next to Jack. For a long moment, neither of them speak.

Then, Jack climbs into Reyes’ space like he used to when the injections left them both shaking and feeling flushed with cold sweat. He presses his forehead against Reyes’ neck and Reyes wraps a loose arm around him.

Jack doesn’t like to feel trapped and Reyes doesn’t like to feel ungrounded. Together, they make it work and fall into an easy slumber.

They’ll figure it out together when they’re not going to die.

 

* * *

 

 _I will love you_ , Jack reads and he is young and just building a working understanding of French. _I will love you_ , he reads again. And again. 

And again.

The phrase is everywhere and it’s one of the only things he understands. He thinks he understands _Son_ as well, but that’s all the way at the beginning next to the word _Cher_ which Jack does not know the meaning of.

Later, he realizes that the notes in the dictionary and the journal have two very distinct writing styles. He looks at the notes his father sticks on the fridge and bursts into tears when he understands the full journal.

_Dear my unborn son._

 

* * *

 

Reinhardt loves to tell stories. He has a very good voice for it too. It’s this very warm brass sound that envelops people in an excited narrative.

Ana is sitting beside Jack, every bit the picture of relaxed and at ease. Reyes is behind her, braiding her hair with quick and efficient twists of his fingers. He marvels at how well they work together. There’s something about how Ana and Reyes just _know_  each other that leaves a stinging sensation in Jack’s heart. He waits and waits and waits, but nothing ever seems to blossom between them. Jack tries not to feel the scarlet scatter of relief, or at least, he tries not to make it so _obvious_. 

Torbjörn is sitting a bit away from them, sketching. 

( Of all of them, Torbjörn is probably the only one who can match Reyes in terms of pure work ethic. Neither of them really stop working, taking schematics or battle plans respectively to bed and spending hours into the night working on them.

Reyes doesn’t sleep and needs the task to occupy him. Torbjörn always looks grim and vaguely angry at himself so Jack thinks the man has a lot to think about every night.

Sometimes he tells Torbjörn to go to bed when he thinks that enough is enough. Most times, the engineer scoffs and tells _him_ to go back to sleep. Sometimes, though, Torbjörn listens to him and gives him an almost smile.

Reinhardt tells him that the Swedish word Torbjörn likes to use for Jack - and Reyes too, surprisingly - means _Kid_. )

Reinhardt continues to spin an inspiring tale about the Crusaders. They’ve all heard about them, but only in passing. Reyes has read up on them and showed Jack the callous mission reports when neither of them could sleep.

There’s a pinch of sadness in Reinhardt’s eyes as he starts to descend into another story. His voice gains this heaviness to it. He begins talking about the Crusader headquarters in Eichenwalde and reminisces on the bar he had scratched his name into.

Reyes makes some comment in rapid-fire Spanish that has Ana’s hand rising up to contain her laughter. Reinhardt puts up a hand and while chuckling tells them to allow him to continue, to which Torbjörn interrupts and says it wasn’t a very good story anyway.

A sputter of indignation leaves the German knight and he stands up, saying that he has half a mind to show Torbjörn _what a good story feels like_.

The two descend into good-natured banter.

Jack takes a look and the pinch is gone and he smiles at Reyes in response. 

They lapse into an easy silence and Jack is just struck with the realization of how far he’s come. There is no time for congratulations, but he allows himself to enjoy this moment.

Ana pulls him in until his head is on her shoulder and Reyes grumbles about how Jack’s head is in the way, but he doesn’t move Jack so Jack stays.

 

* * *

 

Here is how it all falls into place:

Reyes is neither simple nor complex and Jack knows that he will never understand him. But he _likes_ that about Reyes. Reyes is a puzzle that Jack will never solve. A journal he will never translate. A person he will never be able to read.

The thing about Jack is that he understands people. He knows how people think, how they work - he knows their _hearts_.

When Jack smiles, it is honest and the glass of the mirror is thick and dark. He peers in from the other side as people open up around him.

Reyes is the first person to figure it out.

( Later, someone will make a cruel joke that Reyes must have been familiar with two-way mirrors. To which Reyes will calmly and smugly explain the physics of light and how it interacts with the glass to create that effect.

People forget or perhaps don’t choose to acknowledge that Reyes is _devastatingly_ clever. There is something inertly _methodical_ and systematic about Reyes’ entire existence. It’s as if he relies more on numbers and algorithms than human thought or empathy.

There are many rumours catching in the wind about Reyes being an Omnic in disguise.

Ana is the one who tells Reyes and he laughs for three minutes straight. He bursts out in this full-bellied laughter, eyes genuinely sparking with a white-amber glimmer. There’s so much life and happiness radiating off of him that Jack wonders how people can _ever_ think this man as anything less than beautifully  _human_.

His heart aches and he has to look away, but Reyes’ laughter consumes him for the rest of the day. )

Like Jack, Reyes understands people. Except, Reyes understands in people in  _patterns_. He understands human behaviour and habits, keeping careful track of the bits and pieces that people unknowingly give up about themselves.

Jack takes quiet comfort in the fact that Reyes has not yet grown bored of him. Of course, with the Omnic Crisis taking up most of Reyes’ thoughts, there’s not a lot of time Reyes can devote to picking Jack apart. Jack gets to keep his secrets for a little while longer and he gets more time to figure Reyes out.

( See, Reyes is smart. Reyes brings a ball and string to a maze and Jack is the one who willingly gets lost in the field. )

Eventually, they fall into an easy rhythm.

They’ve long stopped pretending to be sleeping in separate rooms when they’re with the team. They rise and wake together and Jack feels his chest swell with fondness whenever he wakes up, limbs tangled with Reyes’. They spend most of their waking hours together too. They eat their meals together, hardly ever seen without the other. If anyone understands, then they’re intuitive enough to not say anything.

It’s a positive and beneficial arrangement, though.

When Reyes insists upon stretching his body to its limits, Jack is there to remind him that super soldiers are not invincible and that the bed is cold without him. 

In truth, Jack will unashamedly exploit the pocket of guilt Reyes feels when Jack stays up with him. Jack has become so accustomed to sleeping with Reyes that he honestly can’t fall asleep without him. So he stays up, he grows exhausted and eventually Reyes relents.

( See, Reyes is this solid mass of stability and Jack clings to him like an anchor keeping a boat docked.

Somehow, Reyes chases away the terrors and calms Jack’s sprawling thoughts. )

He reminds Reyes to eat as well. Sometimes in the blistering haze of planning, Reyes forgets to feed himself and has grown alarmingly skilled at ignoring his _ravenous_ metabolism. Jack nudges him and feeds him crackers as he watches Reyes pour over maps, jotting down notes with a pencil.

Sometimes Ana helps too. Ana has this authority about her that makes Reyes listen without question. Jack has to prod and maybe manipulate, but all Ana has to do is cough and suddenly Reyes is snapping out of his fever and he remembers how to be a functional human being.

They all worry.

Especially, when half-way into a mission, Reyes is struck down by a wayward bullet. His gurgle is cut off by pain and the entire team descends into an internalized frenzy that has them eliminating target after target until they’re being pulled out of the fire and back behind friendly lines.

Jack hovers by Reyes’ bedside and never leaves. He glares at the doctors and holds Reyes’ hand with a vice-like grip that no one has the heart ( or strength ) to pry away.

“Is he going to be okay?” Jack asks, face pale and lined with exhaustion. He coughs and rubs his thumb on the back of Reyes’ hand.

“Yes,”  the doctor says because the team had been terrifying quick in dispatching the threat and retreating back to where Reyes can get the treatment he needed.

And when Jack wakes up, it’s to a hand playing with his hair gently. He blinks groggily awake, unsure when he had fallen asleep. He can feel his back ache so he stretches and yawns.

The action wakes him up a little more and he smacks his lips, gazing unseeingly around him until a rough voice chuckles.

Jack snaps awake. 

It sounds like there are a thousand iron fences in his throat, but there Reyes is, staring at him with a soft, but fond smile.

Jack swears his heart stops.

Even admist the obvious drench of exhaustion, Reyes’ eyes still burns with a faint intensity. A mere echo of its grand form, but its dogged persistence gives him something to admire. There’s a faint crinkle at the corners of Reyes’ eyes and Jack is just struck by how _old_ Reyes looks.

The folds of his skin look deeper and darker. It’s like they’ve been carved into him and his hair ( now curling into an unruly mess after weeks without the time to cut it ) has a few streaks of gray gathering at the temples.

“You drool,” Reyes murmurs with a very tired rasp. Jack reaches for a cup with a straw nearby and offers it. Reyes is too out of it to complain.

“I do not,” Jack says easily.

He smiles.

Reyes does not. Instead, he looks at Jack very intently like he's trying to figure something out. Jack stays still; he's older now and he can meet Reyes' examination with a stronger courage. Then, Reyes makes a motion towards Jack's hands and Jack, confused, lifts them in front of himself.

His throat goes dry when Reyes fixes his sleeves and rolls the cuffs over his wrists. They're even and perfectly straight by the time Reyes is done. Jack swallows, nodding. He places them back down on the hospital bed.

They stare into each other.

( He thinks of a million things and all of them are embarrassingly about how soft Reyes’ lips look and how Jack wants nothing more than to press their lips together. )

And just like that, the moment is gone.

"What about the mission?” Reyes asks, soft vulnerability sliding underneath staunch professionalism and Jack sighs before debriefing him. Dark lips twist into a disappointed scowl as Jack tells him they had to abandon the mission to secure his safety. Reyes looks like he wants to say something and he almost does, lips parting to speak, but then he seems to think better of it and says nothing. Jack is secretly glad that Reyes is too tired to lecture him about the objective.

They spend the rest of Reyes’ time at the hospital in relative peace. There is one memorable moment when Reyes manages to convince Jack to help him escape because _there is so much work to be done_  and that  _no one else is going to fucking do it_. Reyes is one of _those_ types of patients and Jack is ashamed to admit that all it takes is one look before he is bending to Reyes’ will.

Surprisingly, it’s Reinhardt who catches them. Reinhardt physically tries to drag Reyes back to bed until Reyes gives off this very fragmented yell at being touched. 

Reinhardt stops, eyes wide and he looks to Jack who is equally panicked.

Reyes pushes off from Jack's half-embrace and stumbles to stand on his own. He is a swaying human mass of frayed and still fraying nerves, but somehow he looks stronger than both of them combined.

Very quickly, they're reminded of the one night Reyes woke up with a scream loud enough to shatter the sky. No one came to comfort him because the moment they tried, Reyes had growled and it had been bone-deep _terrifying_  to see that familiar intensity almost _bleed_  with hatred against them.

( The night after, Reyes takes the entire watch and greets them all with a steady nod and an apologetic look. Ana’s lips twist and she glares at Reyes. Reyes meets her glare with his own and the two lock together in a familiar battle. And like always, Ana cannot understand him. Reyes spews explanation after explanation, but she shakes her head and walks away.

Reyes’ justifications never make any sense to Ana. )

Reinhardt backs up and gives Reyes his space, but Jack reaches for him and Reyes’ breath hitches in that incredibly forceful way that tells Jack a lot more than Reyes _wants_.

Reyes, to his credit, stays on his feet and forces his lungs to stop stuttering all the time. He closes his eyes and places a hand on his chest, wrestling his body back into his control. The iron slips back on. He steels his nerves and lets out one final puff of air.

He gives them both a nod and proudly walks on his own back to his bed where the nurse stares at them all disapprovingly.

The thing is, the nurse doesn’t _know_  Reyes. The nurse doesn’t realize that Reyes _needs_  to feel this, sometimes. That Reyes is a human being that was forged _specifically_ for war and strife. He has been hammered, tempered and perfected into the shape of a weapon and when he’s shelved for repairs, a strange anxiety reaches up with skeletal hands and threatens to drag him under.

Reyes is _different_. They’re _all_  different, but Reyes is the only _different_  that Jack can understand. When Reyes is feeling flighty and there’s that singularity in the corner of his eyes, Jack reaches over and touches his shoulder.

Then, just like that, it's like seeing the ocean part in two.

All at once, Reyes unravels before him and Jack's eyes drown in awe.

 

* * *

 

“You need to stop this,” Ana says and her voice is pained and very sad. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and meets his eyes evenly. She’s older than them both by a few years and she has a little daughter. “You’re the only person he opens up to.”

Because Jack doesn’t want to stop and doesn’t want to know that, he shakes his head, something jagged and sharp in his throat: “No, I’m not.”

Because it’s _true_. Reyes has seen Ana in the quiet nights before and they’ve talked about things that Jack doesn’t feel is fair for him to imagine. So he doesn’t and he stays up until Reyes is done and he sneaks back into their ( _Their!_  ) room. 

Reyes has even stayed up with Reinhardt some nights when Reyes isn’t sleeping and Reinhardt is looking for bottles that Reyes either hides or gives him depending on what he sees.

Torbjörn never offers and Reyes doesn’t ever expect it. They’re too alike and they will punch each other to death if they ever start  _talking_.

Jack doesn’t understand the urgency in Ana’s eyes. Maybe it’s because Reyes almost _died_  today and while it’s not a new thing, almost dying, the fact that it was _Reyes_  this time leaves them all fairly rattled.

“Jack,” Ana says, sternly.

Jack closes his eyes and tries very hard to breathe, but there’s nothing to press his wrists against.

 

* * *

 

He figures out quick that Reyes never sleeps. He doesn’t vibrate with barely contained energy, live off of caffeine, have plaguing nightmares ( that Jack isn’t aware of, anyway ) or have restless habits that keep him up far past _lights out_. 

Reyes just _doesn’t_. He’s said as much before. Has waved off Jack’s questions with a neutral look and something along the lines of, _I forget to_.

Reyes just stays up without consciously meaning to and he decides to just stay awake when he notices the time. He stays in bed and stares at the ceiling or he gets up and works quietly at the small desk in the corner. Jack doesn’t know what he does, but he imagines Reyes writes.

The man can quote Shakespeare and dance incredible dances around his foes. His tongue is as silver as a snake and his eyes glitter like basilisk’s.

While Jack is a casual sponge that passively soaks up information he learns, Reyes is an all consuming fire. He burns his nights away, thumbing through passages or listening to a singular song on endless loop until he can tap it out perfectly with his fingers. He devours blocks of texts, critically analyzing it until he can understand everything that is written and not written. 

Reyes loves knowledge like fire needs air. Jack has never seen someone so invested and so passionate. Reyes allows these things to consume him, relentlessly moving on to newer and bigger things that leaves Jack struggling to even  _watch_  him.

Jack is enamoured with the moments when Reyes’ flame is pulled back, tight against his dark skin and the air warps around him. Reyes is dangerous. _Very_ dangerous. He’s a sporadic and angry brick wall of pure existence, but he’s also extremely  _clever_.

He has this type of self-confidence that is rare to find in anyone.

Reyes is not a forest fire. That’s too wild and untamed for all the structured nuances of Reyes’ character.

Maybe he is the  _sun_. He burns bright against the void of space and he has such a  _presence_  about him that people can’t help but be pulled into his orbit.

Reyes is a phenomenon unto himself and Jack just wants to wrap himself in everything that Reyes is, was, and ever will be.

Jack is allowed to understand Reyes like no one else is. He’s afforded this special permission to look at Reyes and really see him for who he truly is. Reyes tells Jack that he has a family in Los Angeles and although it’s not uncommon knowledge, the fact that Reyes  _tells_  him means a lot.

Sadly, Reyes is a mercurial man. It can be just like  _that_  and the glimpse is gone, Reyes is suddenly unreadable again. Like a receding tide, Reyes leans to wash the sand with salt before pulling back into obscurity. He’s an enigma wrapped up in rumours and whispers that don't understand him at all. 

But Jack waits and he waits and he waits some more. He waits until the snake that slithers through the tall field at night returns to regale him with more stories.

 

* * *

 

Here is how it all falls apart:

The thing about Jack is that Jack takes. He takes and he takes and he takes until there is nothing left for him to consume. It’s not through any deliberate attempt on his part. Jack is not that type of person.

People around him just tend to _give_ him stuff. Reyes, most of all.

For some reason beyond Jack's comprehension, people _love_ him.

( The cruel trick is to close his eyes and _breathe_. The second he stops breathing, he loses the game. )

Then there is this that Jack has learned about Reyes: Reyes _gives_. He is a giver and he keeps on giving until there’s nothing left of him to give. Then he gives some more. 

There has not been an instance in Reyes' life where he has held back. When he fights, he fights until his bones are broken. Until he has given every ounce of fire that rages inside of him. When he speaks, he gives every word all the passion and meaning he can muster. He can break down minds with his silvertongue and cause _tidal waves_. When he loves, he gives everything that he has to offer and _more_.

Reyes burns.

Jack has seen Reyes burn and he has been burning for many,  _many_ years. Jack tries to be the water that douses Reyes’ flames and keeps him from consuming all the wood, but all he does is make smoke.

When it comes down to it Jack is aware that Reyes will give his life for what he believes in.

( He is a child, again, and he feels like there is someone watching the stars with him )

“Did you think you’d die for Overwatch?” Jack asks because he thinks he’s being clever. In truth, he’s just being petty and bitter. He looks at the plaque next to the one he’s in front of and he hates the way _Jack Morrison_  looks.

“What the fuck did you believe in then, Reyes,” he asks and he knows the wind will not answer him and that the earth has filled Reyes’ throat.

Jack leaves flowers and takes his leave.

**Author's Note:**

> i now have a [tumblr](http://iconoclastis.tumblr.com/) so i'm down to discuss things there.
> 
>  **big shout-out to des** , my lovely friend whom i love a lot. they've helped me develop my idea of jack so much ( at least 90% of the headcanons here come from and are inspired by des ) and has been my partner in crime when it comes to discussing jack & reyes, deep™ idiots extraordinaire.
> 
> this does contain faint allusions to another fic of mine, [Execute](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8021503) mainly in terms of some of the metaphors & the infamous "how do you think we'll die" question.
> 
> this was a lot of fun to do and i hope y'all like it <3


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